[Review] Netflix’s Queen Sono: A Smart Drama that needs a Little Something Extra

Every good spy has a past that haunts them. It’s what keeps them going, what gets them to the office every day. It’s how they keep their identity together.

For Queen Sono (played by Pearl Thusi), that motivation comes from a moment over two decades ago, when South Africa was on the cusp of the transition. She was in a park with her mother, when suddenly there was a gunshot. Her mother fell to the ground, bleeding, and a car screeched away in the distance. Looking into the little girl’s eyes, you can see the moment she made the decision to avenge her mother’s death.

Present-day Queen is famous in some circles for being the daughter of iconic activist Safiya Sono (guest appearance by Lady Skollie). But Queen doesn’t want the breathless praise or any part of the aggrandising rituals. She cannot celebrate with people who don’t understand how much she needs to find out what really happened to her mother.

On a sunny day in the heart of a bustling Zanzibar, everyone at the beach, in the restaurants or at the market is minding their business. One woman dressed in tourist chic and moving around the alleys like a sneaky cat is getting ready to shake things up.

In true “field operative” style, Queen has a computer genius named Fred (Loyiso Madinga) in her ear telling her what to do. Reckless, curious and mischievous as she is, she never listens to poor Fred’s directions. As the show opens, the task at hand involves shadowing two men in hopes of foiling a weapon reseller’s plans with a new client. With African pop music as her soundtrack, Queen creates a clever diversion, grabs one of the men’s bags and makes a run for it. It is clear that this is a woman who completes missions on her own terms.

Back in Johannesburg, Queen works with a small team at the Special Operations Group (SOG) to eradicate threats to national security: illegal arms deals, corrupt transactions by government officials and terrorist attacks. Queen Sono gives a glamorous sheen to international crime, setting up fast-paced, high stakes scenes that end in the SOG catching the bad guys, or at least getting one step closer to saving the world.

While watching Queen don simple disguises and chase down culprits, it occurred to me that spy films lull audiences into a false sense of security. If we believe that the world’s problems are being handled by a whip smart team of badasses, then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?

But some moments hit too close to home. In a meeting about the Russian arms dealer who’s facilitating the activities of an emerging group of radicals (called Watu Wema), someone mentions that the powerful family is currently without a leader, despite there being a daughter who is ready to take up the reins. The family’s patriarch will not give her the position – and save his company at the same time – because she is a woman. “And I thought Zulus were bad,” remarks Queen, gesturing to South African men and their reputation for sexism and misogyny. Fred, originally from Congo, deadpans: “They are.”

The scene changes quickly but the gravity of the moment is not lost: Queen was being flippant about the daily oppression women face at the hands of men, perhaps because she, like many others, is tired of talking but seeing no change; Fred was making his own statement about the xenophobia he would have faced on arrival in this country. Both are valid statements and, without tipping over into a “battle of oppressions”, the scene highlights one thing: you can never assume to know people’s struggles.

This kind of casual cue to reflect is something Queen Sono does well throughout its six episodes. For example, when Watu Wema barges into a prosperity gospel church’s service, the speech their leader makes about the abuse pastors mete out to congregants each week is important. It shows one of our continent’s biggest problems: the use of religion to exploit the poor.

While most of the action comes from the missions that involve the requisite chasing and gunfire, it is something more personal that keeps Queen on her toes. In an effort to gather more intel about what happened on that fateful day and why, Queen poses as a nurse and visits the home of an Afrikaans crime family. To ingratiate herself to them, Queen addresses the family in Afrikaans, sharing vague niceties. This is perhaps the riskiest of all Queen’s moves: she puts herself in the middle of shady white family’s private business; there’s no telling how they would react to the intrusion. But Queen remains focused, taking what she needs and escaping just before anyone can question whether her skin colour really makes her who she says she is.

Throughout the season, I was conscious that I was watching Pearl Thusi act. Each dress, head wrap, leather jacket, cap or pair of combat boots that Queen puts on to try and evade people was only as convincing as it was well put-together. The disguises did nothing but raise questions: would the people she was spying on really not recognise that face? Or that hair? It felt like Thusi was too well-known to ever pass as anyone but herself. (Of course, a broader international audience may feel differently.)

In Robin Thede’s A Black Lady Sketch Show, the theme of women spies having to look good on the job is dissected from the opposite angle: what if the best woman spy was the most nondescript person on the team? In an elaborate skit, a secret agency’s top operative is someone who is just… regular. So regular, in fact, that she is forgettable, invisible, even. The joke centres on the fact that no one cares who she is or what she looks like and that’s what makes her so good at catching the bad guys. The issue of Queen seeming to fit in where everything says she should stand out brings up the issue of women spies in films always needing to have beauty as one of the weapons in their arsenal. The femme fatale traditionally has great make-up and sleek clothing to make up her signature look; you’ll know her when you spot her, but you’ll never see her coming.

At the beginning of the series, Queen’s grandmother (Abigail Kubeka) is worried that she is “running away from herself”. This turns out to be true: Queen is constantly quietly struggling between proving her worth at work and being a good daughter, friend and sister to those she holds dear. She does not admit to or display vulnerability, but it is there. She wants her life to be stable, but she can’t have that – she can’t rest – until she knows what happened to her mother.

This is a question that does not take up as much time or space as it could have in this story. Saving the world takes preference. The action lifts Queen Sono out of its slower, less entertaining moments and keeps you watching. It keeps you rooting for Queen to win.

Aesthetics and big moments aside, Queen Sono left me wanting something more, or maybe something else.

There were too many questions up in the air, and the introduction of a crucial character right at the end indicates that the show intends to answer these questions in a second season. But since the showrunners have not announced one yet, viewers will have to enjoy the show for what it is: a fun South African take on a beloved genre.

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